Brown
by Firefly-Maj
Summary: Little boys grow up, but what happens to their beloved stuffed animals when they do? Brown, Estel s stuffed horse, will tell you in retrospect. Short, AU, no Slash. Main characters Estel/Aragorn and Brown, guest appearance by Elladan. Reviews appreciated!


_Disclaimer_: Brown is mine, the rest unfortunately not...

_Author´s note_: There are some minor spoilers for "Home and the Heartland", but even if you intend to read it one day, it shouldn´t be a problem.

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Written for Florean and Starlight´s panda, our heroes. You ROCK!!!

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**Brown**

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I can´t remember the early days of my life so clearly, but I know that I have felt welcomed from the very first moment that the little boy had taken me in his arms. He was a lot bigger than me, though still very small in comparison to the tall elf who was there with us. But he smelled good and his still clumsy hands stroked me so fondly that I didn´t need to be scared.

Right now that I recall those days long past I know a lot more about life than I did back then; I didn´t know, for example, what nightmares were, until my little boy woke up trembling for the first time. My surprise when he groped around in the darkness until he found me, the intensity with which he hugged me tight have been saved in my memory until today. These nightmares indeed taught me how much I was needed; I did my best to comfort him, not only at night but also when the both of us seemed to be the only inhabitants of Rivendell who were under one meter of height and heavily felt the difference.

We had a lot of adventures together, our life rarely got boring. I got lost on a lot of different occasions, though, and every time someone finally found me, the little one distinctly showed me his happiness and relief of having me back. And I was glad, of course, not to have to stay in the gardens overnight, or to gently be washed with warm water if I had gotten dirty. The father and the two older brothers of my boy were good with him, and me; I had been a little afraid of them at first, because they were so big, but Estel, as my boy was called, showed me that they meant well. He even trusted them to take care of me if he had to get into the tub, for example, and I trusted him. Many a time at night when Estel was too afraid even to be comforted by me, we sought refuge in either of their arms.

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Eventually, my little boy grew up. It was a sad time when I realized that he didn´t need me as much as before anymore, but I still slept in his bed and watched over his sleep. And whenever he had a nightmare, even though their occurence had decreased considerably, he took me in his arms to be comforted as always.

And then came the days when he was no boy anymore, a time when he left home; I was devastated. I terribly missed the little boy he had been, and I missed him. I learned to be patient, though, and waited for him to return, as I did not have anything else to do.

He has returned many times since then, often with intervals too long to be accounted for, and in various states of well-being. He often seemed to be weighed down by some invisible burden, and I often wished I was still able to comfort him.

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Once, one of the twins took me to his own room, where I lived for a while without even knowing why, but one day he brought me back. My boy, who had not been a boy for a long time anymore, was not even aware of my presence at first, as he was injured and ill, but when he started to recover and realized I was there, he took me and snuggled up with me just like he had done when he had been small, even though he told me I looked worn-out just like himself.

I had no idea what he meant, but it was not important anyway: I was happy.

Ever since then he has been mostly away again, and one day the twin came for me once more. He took me and looked at me, smiling, telling me that it was time I met the king. I did not want to meet any king, I wanted to stay right where I was, but before I could even comprehend what was happening, he had put me in a bag.

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It was dark and uncomfortable for a long time, until I was finally saved when someone took me out of that bag.

It was the twin, who handed me to someone else. It was a bearded man, who wore a slight frown for just a second. Then he slowly broke into a smile, and I recognized him, despite the beard and him looking much older now: it was my boy, who now hugged me, and I could feel his laughter reverberate through his chest.

By now I know that he has become king, of course, and I have meanwhile moved in with his small son. He often reminds me of his father, such a long time ago, and I have a good life in comparison to all those years before which I mainly spent waiting.

But it is different nevertheless; sometimes I still dream of my little boy, the way he was back then, and the times we have spent together, and I am glad that I have not forgotten him. He was very special to me.

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**The End**

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